


Deliverance

by inbetweencabs



Category: Cale Mills - Fandom, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbetweencabs/pseuds/inbetweencabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy’s eyes still look haunted and hungry as he looks over Cale standing there so stiffly by the door. It’s as if Cale never told him that they need to stop, that they need to let it go, that it’s the last night—<i>it’s always the last night. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliverance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the TJR Big Bang. 
> 
> Thanks to **samanthahirr** for her amazing feedback and stellar beta work. Major love to **claire_kay** and **Val_Brown** for the handholding - they totally talked me into writing this pairing so I took it as a challenge and I'm glad I did. And lastly, I couldn't have written this without the ladies from my Kradam mailing list who are the best sprint buddies anyone could ever hope for.

The invitations have been sent out, the wine has been ordered, and the dinner courses have been chosen. Kate is still avoiding carbs even if her simple, off-white dress already fits her perfectly. Cale’s parents’ house is full of people who only see each other when someone gets hitched or, more often than not, when someone dies. 

Well, Cale thinks, there’s not much difference between the two. He tries really hard not to think about it too much, seeing it’s just a week until the wedding.

Sometimes Cale wonders if what he feels is really that unimportant. He sometimes feels guilty when his mind goes in that direction, but he has spent enough time avoiding “the next step” that he feels like everyone should’ve already gotten the hint. But even years later, the burden of expectation still feels heavier than it should be, and sometimes the easy way out seems like salvation.

So when he picks Kris up for his fitting, he’s pretty surprised when Kris hands him an envelope.

“Tickets to LA,” Kris says, and Cale’s about to thank him on behalf of Kate when he sees that it’s just for one.

To his raised eyebrow, Kris replies, “Your flight leaves in two hours. I’ll cover for you… just go.”

Cale wants to say no even as his palms start to sweat and the tightness in his throat makes it hard for him to breathe. But when your best friend thinks you should step away from what’s safe into something that could hurt really, really bad – you listen. You think about it. There’s no way around it.

 

: : : 

 

Cale spends the afternoon in the hotel room Kris got for him, just staring out the window and feeling the warm summer air. It’s easier to not think about things when there’s nothing to remind you of it, not when’s the sun shining so brightly, not when it’s all bright and cheery. He thinks about Kate’s smile, the taste of their wedding cake on her lips, the sparkle of the diamond on her ring when the sunlight hits it.

But when midnight strikes and the shadows have fallen to the edges, Cale’s feet take him to a place he never thought he’d visit again. 

_Bender_ still looks the same from the outside. The queue of people trying to get in is still long, the black paint on the doors still peeling unattractively to reveal the rusted steel beneath it. Olly is still manning the door, a burly black man with gold incisors and a gold medallion hanging on his thick neck. 

Cale doesn’t think Olly will remember him—after all, it’s been two years since they last saw each other—so he’s surprised when Olly waves him over to the front of the queue.

“Disney Prince.” Olly gives him a heavy pat on the back and Cale can’t help but smile as he’s ushered in.

The sounds of a guitar being smashed, followed by an erratic drum solo, greet him as he steps into the dark hallway. He recognizes the words being shouted into the mic as some incarnation of the Sex Pistols’ _God Save the Queen_ , and his wince turns into a smile. He shakes his head as he thinks that it’s been two years, but _Bender_ still attracts the same crowd.

He steps into the mass of writhing, jumping bodies, and he can feel the sweat dripping from his hairline down to his neck toward the dip of his spine. He pushes his arms out to meet the heavy resistance of a collectively drunk crowd. It still feels good to be in the middle of chaos, the mindless exultation that can only come from a combination of music, alcohol and drugs.

He reaches the bar at the far end of the room and is surprised to see Skylar there. She jumps over the bar when she sees him, giving him a kiss on the lips and a hug that makes Cale laugh out loud.

“What the fuck, I never really thought I’d see you again!” she loudly says against his ear.

Cale chuckles at her lack of filter. He leans against her and says, “Unfinished business.”

Her eyebrows raise, and Cale can feel the heavy gaze that Skylar shoots him. She shouts, “I thought you were getting married.” When Cale gives her a questioning look, Skylar shrugs. “I follow you on twitter, jerk.”

“I was,” Cale shouts back. He clears his throat and, with a softer voice, tells her, “I _am_.”

Skylar smiles at him, and Cale feels uncomfortable, like he’s on display. But she just tugs his hand and leads him toward the back of the stage. 

The sound coming from the main room is considerably muffled when they step into the back hallway. Skylar hugs him again and whispers, “Tommy’s in your usual room.”

Cale can feel himself blushing, the implications of her words making him hot all over. The thought that Tommy’s there, possibly sitting on his favorite loveseat, a glass of whiskey in hand, makes Cale feel that he has stepped back in time—to a time when the road was the only home he had, and music the only constant companion. 

Skylar leaves him to walk toward the room himself. His steps are heavy, not unlike the first time he came to this place. It’s easy to forget that particular moment, especially with how many times he has walked this path, but Cale vowed to himself that he’d always remember that day. After all, it’s not every day that you see the potential of a forgotten possibility. 

The door still has an ungraceful catch to it when he turns the knob quickly. But Cale doesn’t care, because this is not a time to bother with trivial things like that. And then he’s standing in front of Tommy, his fists clenched and his breath catching in his throat.

Tommy still looks the same. His blond hair still falls over his left eye, fringe moving delicately when he breathes out softly. He’s still biting his lower lip mercilessly, the way he does when he’s got a few drinks in him, and Cale knows that it will still feel a bit dry against his own. 

But most of all, Tommy’s eyes still look haunted and hungry as he looks over Cale standing there so stiffly by the door. It’s as if Cale never told him that they need to stop, that they need to let it go, that it’s the last night— _it’s always the last night._

Tommy gets up from the loveseat and puts the bottle of whiskey on the floor beside his guitar. Cale stays where he is, his hand still on the doorknob.

And then, like it was just yesterday, Tommy says, “You’re back.”

Cale only manages a stiff nod before Tommy’s surging up on his toes to kiss him. Tommy’s lips are just as dry as Cale remembered, his breath heavy with the intoxicating taste of whiskey and something else that Cale has never really defined. But he knows that he hasn’t tasted it when he kisses anyone else, not when he kisses Kate.

And he needs it so bad. It’s not as if he hasn’t realized that, but he had forgotten just how much. Because there’s nothing that makes him lose his mind like the curl of Tommy’s tongue against his, the tug of impatient fingers on his hair, the warmth of Tommy’s hard cock pressing against him through layers of denim.

Cale opens his mouth wider, lets Tommy bite savagely on his lower lip. He steps forward to guide Tommy back to the couch, and they fall together, all tangled limbs, mouths still fused together. There are no moans exchanged, just grunts, hurried touches and tangible urgency with the way Tommy’s rubbing on Cale’s leg.

Cale briefly wonders how they must look, with the want and desperation always charging the air between them. Sometimes he wonders if people who don’t know him will notice how Cale has never felt as comfortable with a pair of hands roaming around his body as he is when Tommy’s hands touch him. 

When Tommy slips a hand down to take Cale’s cock out of his pants, Cale can’t remember why he even needs to care what the rest of the world would think. Not when Tommy makes him feel like there’s nothing— _no one_ —else that should matter, like they’re trapped in time, and there’s nothing more important than this intoxicating need to be together.

It’s over quickly, just like it always is when they haven’t seen each other for a while. Cale comes with a muffled scream against Tommy’s shoulder, his teeth leaving marks where Tommy’s shirt has slipped from the curve of his neck. He’s still latched onto Tommy’s skin when he feels the wetness seep from the front of Tommy’s pants, leaving the exposed skin on his hip cool and a bit moist. They’re breathing together, ragged and deep, and Cale feels his body sag against Tommy.

Tommy relaxes, too, taking Cale’s weight easily, opening his legs to cradle Cale’s bulk. And Cale, without any thought, just lets himself say what he has known all along.

“Never like this with anyone. _Never_.”

 

: : : 

 

Three years ago, Cale met Tommy in a hotel parking lot. Cale had just been informed that he was in Kris’s band, and Tommy was coming in to rehearse with Adam’s band. The meeting was nothing special: Adam and Kris talked to each other about people Tommy and Cale didn’t know but had heard about, while they stood beside each other trying not to eavesdrop too much. 

The very same thing happened the next few times they saw each other. As the unplanned meetings and backstage run-ins happened more frequently, Cale realized that he and Tommy also developed some sort of camaraderie while Adam and Kris chatted. They exchanged nods, shook hands, and talked for a bit about where they were playing their next show.

It started getting complicated when the bands were in Vegas, and they all went up to Adam’s room. Tommy was already piss-drunk when Cale came in with Kris and Andrew, and he threw himself against the three of them, slobbering them with kisses. Kris and Andrew just laughed, pushing a pouting and handsy Tommy completely into Cale’s hands.

“You’re the Disney Prince,” Tommy said. He pointed a finger toward where Adam was coaxing Kris to do tequila shots. “Adam wants to dress me up as a princess.”

“What?” Cale answered, completely bewildered.

“You heard me. You’re my prince,” Tommy muttered, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

Years later, Cale would remember that as a turning point. Because if he had just laughed and walked away, then maybe Tommy would have found someone else to spend the night with. If he’d just refused the shots Tommy lined up in front of him, then maybe he wouldn’t have to compare how Kate’s hands were too soft, too delicate. And if he hadn’t let Tommy lead him to the bathroom, he wouldn’t be missing what he hadn’t known.

But as it was, Tommy went on his knees and swallowed around Cale’s cock, sucked Cale so hard he came with a choked scream. Cale was so confused when it happened that for days after, all he remembered was how the dim overhead light hit the silver tiara Adam managed to put on top of Tommy’s blond hair, creating a hazy shadow around them. 

But that first taste was enough to make him want more, and not even a week later, he was fingering himself open on Skype, Tommy’s voice urging him on. And the day after that, Tommy was standing in the lobby of Cale's hotel in the middle of Oklahoma.

Every time they talked, Cale tried to be honest, despite the fact that he knew how different they really were. He talked about his church, and how it gave him a sense of peace, how he thought that the music he made there was what he was born to do. Tommy nodded like he understood; when he told Cale that music is music regardless of where and how you play it, and actually living with it changes the way you view life, Cale had rimmed him for half an hour.

But then, Cale always forgot the details: the how’s, the when’s, and the what’s. Once, when he was trying to recall when Tommy told him about the first song he ever wrote, all he could think about was Tommy’s laugh. Or when he had confessed to his pastor, who had asked him when he started feeling this way about Tommy, all Cale could think about was how Tommy’s voice goes all soft and reverent when he says Cale’s name as he comes. 

 

: : : 

 

The curtains have been drawn and the room is almost pitch black when Cale wakes up. He really can’t see anything yet, but just from the feel of the bed, he knows he’s in Tommy’s house. He squints and tries to figure out what time it is, because he can see the light coming through from the windows’ edges.

And suddenly, it all comes crashing back: the wedding, his family, Kate’s happiness. Cale moves to get up, but an arm around his waist makes him fall back to bed. 

He turns his head and sees Tommy looking at him with guarded affection. It’s not a look that he hasn’t received from Tommy before, but Cale still smiles, temporarily setting aside what he really needs to think about, because Tommy deserves to have all of him, even for a while.

“How are you?” Tommy asks softly, his eyes moving lazily from Cale’s eyes to his mouth.

“Been better,” and Cale wants to tell Tommy about everything that’s been bothering him. But he thinks that maybe those words shouldn’t be sitting between them.

But Tommy’s smile disappears and he says, “Talk to me, Cale. Don’t give me more of this bullshit.”

Cale shifts away, but Tommy pins him to the bed by rolling on top of him. Cale feels his heart stutter, and he becomes very aware of how their naked bodies fit together. He rolls his hips slowly, and Tommy gasps before grasping his waist to keep him still.

“You’re nervous about the wedding,” Tommy says matter-of-factly, his thumbs lightly brushing the skin stretched over the jut of Cale’s hipbones. Cale doesn’t answer, and Tommy hums a bit. “That’s not a reason to come looking for me and be all fucked up again, Mills.”

What Tommy says registers, and Cale turns his head sharply to look at him. He grabs Tommy’s chin and kisses him thoroughly, until Tommy’s whimpering against his mouth, boneless and pliant. 

He rolls them until Tommy’s completely trapped under him. He bites Tommy’s lower lip and pulls it with his teeth, until Tommy’s screaming. Cale can feel Tommy’s hard dick caught between them and he puts more pressure on it by letting his entire weight rest on Tommy.

He’s going crazy with how turned on he is, but it still pales in comparison to the white-hot rage he feels. He lets go of Tommy’s lip and says, “I don’t want to hear you say that again. I don’t come to you to be all messed up.”

Tommy tries to jostle him off. “Then why the fuck are you here? You just need to get fucked? You just need my cock up your ass?”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Cale breathes out, closing his eyes tightly. 

“Then what is it? Stop messing with me, Mills. Go back to your wife and have her suck your cock.” Tommy sneers at him, and Cale snaps.

He grabs Tommy’s thighs and spreads them. Tommy goes with it, but he’s got a challenge in his eyes that Cale can’t seem to look away from. So he thrusts his cock against the crack of Tommy’s ass, the pressure making him grunt as he stares at Tommy’s face. 

Cale feels Tommy’s hands on his ass urging him on, and he plants his elbows on the bed beside Tommy’s head and just lets go. His movements become more erratic and he feels the head of his cock catch against the rim of Tommy’s hole with one particularly forceful thrust. Tommy’s mouth goes slack, and he lets out a moan, but he’s still not taking his eyes away from Cale’s face.

And that does it, the look on Tommy’s face when he moans out Cale’s name, the way he never looks away, makes Cale come so hard. He closes his eyes for a bit, and when he opens them again, Tommy grabs his hand and sucks on two of his fingers.

Tommy’s still hard, so Cale slithers down between Tommy’s legs. His come paints Tommy’s ass and his balls, and he can see how it’s dripping with Tommy’s pre-come along his dick. He looks up and sees Tommy looking at him with half-lidded eyes, a satisfied smile on his lips. And when Cale starts to lick him clean, Tommy’s moans filling the space between them, Cale thinks, _We’re fine. He knows. He must know._

 

: : : 

 

Cale sits in the dark room, looking at the city just outside the window. He’s fully dressed, his jacket already draped on the duffel bag by the door. Over the low volume of the news coming from the TV, he can hear Tommy start to wake up with sounds that Cale half-remembers: a loud yawn, a moan muffled by a pillow, feet kicking the comforter away. And then the one that Cale never manages to forget—Tommy calling out his name in a tone mixed with confusion and resignation, until Cale kisses him to take all of that away.

It’s always like this when they have to say goodbye.

But now, there is no question in Tommy’s eyes when he gently takes off Cale’s clothes, when he licks him open and pushes right in where Cale’s still slick and loose. Cale struggles to memorize the feeling of fullness despite the distraction of Tommy’s grunts and his moans, the feeling of a hard body pressed against his. Cale closes his eyes and spreads his legs wider, lets Tommy work himself into an erratic pace until he’s pulling viciously at Cale’s hair and going still as he comes.

As Tommy drops his full weight on top of him, Cale remembers the first time they did this. It was quick and dirty, in a motel near Portland. They had been texting each other until Tommy snapped one day and flew to where Cale and Kris were playing. Meeting in the middle of nowhere, Cale let Tommy blow him in the car when they’d stopped on the side of the road because they couldn’t get their hands off each other.

And when they got to the motel, Cale stared into Tommy’s dark eyes and opened himself up. It was a desperate fuck—all teeth, knocked elbows, and bruised skin—but Cale came faster than he ever had before. When he touched Tommy’s face and gently swiped the hair off his forehead, Tommy had come violently inside him, shaking and crying out Cale’s name.

Cale can’t remember any other time when he had felt so satisfied, complete.

And it’s still the same now, with Tommy draped over him and kissing him so slowly. Cale lets himself smile, his thumbs rubbing circles on Tommy’s hip. 

“Somehow, I think it’s always going to be this way with you,” he allows himself to say.

Tommy lifts his head, and there’s a softness lurking in his eyes. Cale watches as Tommy looks at the wall before turning back to stare into Cale’s face. He kisses Cale’s temple and says, “Don’t do it. Don’t marry her. Stay.”

Cale knows that it’s the closest thing to a confession he’s going to get. He has always thought that neither of them knows what this thing between them really is. He bounces from lust to unhealthy dependency to something not unlike addiction at any given time. But sometimes, when the confusion becomes too much to ignore, Cale entertains the notion that it could be something more. He figures that’s the only way to explain why he burns with need to be with Tommy. That line of reasoning usually doesn’t last, because Cale has always believed that something that should be kept a secret does not equal happiness and love.

And yet, at the end of the day, Cale still finds himself daydreaming about playing blues records with Tommy on a lazy Sunday morning. The curtains would be drawn open, and they would go outside to have breakfast, Tommy tucked securely under his arms. And with coffee between them, they would shoot the shit until Cale feels the urge to kiss Tommy. And he would, because it would make Tommy smile up at him brightly, in that way that Cale loves the most.

Cale wants that smile now, but all he sees is the fear in Tommy’s eyes. He swallows the confusion that rises up in his throat and turns his head to kiss Tommy so deeply it starts to hurt, and Cale just wants to bleed so badly.

And it hurts him even more that it’s the only answer he can give.

 

: : : 

 

The sun’s starting to rise, and Cale has the ticket in his hand. He can feel the weight of his phone in his pocket, and he’s already dreading the onslaught of messages he’s going to get once he turns it on. The guilt starts to creep in, because he knows that Kate must be freaking out, but he trusts that Kris was able to handle it. 

Tommy’s arms are wrapped around his waist, the warmth of his body comforting behind Cale. Cale takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on top of Tommy’s head.

“So I guess this is it,” Tommy softly says as he tucks his thumbs in Cale’s front pockets. 

“This is it,” Cale nods. Suddenly, he wants to tell Tommy, leave him with something more significant than soiled sheets and bruises that are starting to fade away.

Tommy must have sensed it, because he tightens his arms around Cale and shakes his head. Cale relaxes and squeezes Tommy’s hand. Then he closes his eyes and listens to himself breathe.

 

: : : 

 

When Cale steps out of the cab, he sees Kate running out of the house and straight into his arms. He revels in the familiarity of her smell and the way she fits so nicely against him. Kate’s laughing, but when she takes a step back, Cale can see the relief in her eyes. It almost makes him ignore the tight clutch she’s got on his arms.

They walk arm in arm towards Cale’s family’s house, Kate babbling about how Kris told them that Cale had to see a friend who desperately needed his help in a detox camp; that he would be out of reach for a few days before he came home. Cale just nods along, but before they open the door, Kate stops with a question in her eyes.

“I was so scared,” she whispers. “I… I didn’t think you’d be coming back. I mean, the wedding’s tomorrow, and your phone was off, and…” she takes a deep breath and looks at her feet.

Cale feels the clench in his gut, and he doesn’t know why, but he tries to step away from her.

But she reaches out to him and steps closer. When she looks up, Cale sees how bright her eyes are from unshed tears. “You still want this, right? That’s why you came back?”

Cale knows that it would break her if he says no. And the truth is, he wants Kate to be happy. He wants his family to be proud. Despite everything, he knows that this is what he wants.

“I’d do anything for you,” he answers. And that seems to be enough, because Kate takes a deep breath, grips his hand, and opens the door.

 

: : :

 

When Cale was growing up, he never really thought about falling in love. He dreamed about meeting the right girl, loving her, giving her a good life—all the things he was told that good men do. And that was what Cale wanted to be. He never particularly dreamed of becoming a doctor or an astronaut; all he wanted was to live his life being the good man his family would be proud of.

But life takes a different turn when you stop being eight and you see the world beyond the edges of those first dreams. Cale learned this when he met Ryan and realized that he looked forward to seeing his smile more than he wanted to hold Heather in his arms. He loved Heather, but his hands always felt empty when he touched her soft curves. There was always something lacking, and Cale wasn’t going to think about it just to make things complicated.

When Kate replaced Heather in his life, he vowed that he would be the man that Kate deserved. Kate loves him in the truest sense of the word, in the way that he believes love should be. They have never talked about why it didn’t work out with Heather; all Kate wants is to be 'the one.' And Cale hopes that he can want that, too.

 

: : : 

 

There are few things Cale loves more than the view out his bedroom window. That sealed the deal when he decided to buy this cabin by the river. Everyone who’s seen the house thinks it’s perfect for a young family, but Cale bought it because as soon as he’d seen the bedroom, he could already imagine himself spending every night in it, plucking some melodies and just thinking about what he’d done earlier in the day.

And that’s what he does as he’s looking at the ceiling, counting the shadows playing across it. Cale thinks about the way he broke down while getting dressed that morning. He was tying his bowtie when he suddenly felt his stomach turning. He'd run to the bathroom and thrown up until snot, vomit, and tears were on his face. Kris had come in to talk to him, and Cale remembers taking in the sadness written all over Kris’s face. They didn’t have to talk about it for Cale to know that Kris knew exactly how he felt.

And that’s what had made Cale stand up, wash his face, and step out of that room looking immaculate in his grey suit. Cale’s glad he got the courage to do so, because right now, he feels that this is where he’s meant to be, Kate pressed against him, her breathing in tune with his.

 

: : :

 

It’s been six months since Cale and Kate got married. It’s been a quiet time for them, and sometimes Cale actually has to remind himself that they really did get married. It’s not anything bad; it’s just that nothing much has changed except that they had a ceremony and matching rings. Mostly, he thinks about the vows they exchanged: the catch in Kate’s voice when she said them, and Cale’s silent promise that he’d do everything to believe that he had made the right choice.

Cale thinks it’s better, though, when Kris’s fall tour ends, and they’re scheduled to spend some time home to write some songs. He spends a lot of time with Kate, getting to know the little things that draw the line of distinction between just being together and actually being married. He writes another song for her. All the while, Cale tries to ignore their parents’ seemingly relentless prodding for grandchildren.

He doesn’t think about Tommy. Well, he tries not to, anyway. He knows that Tommy’s off touring with Adam in Europe, and sometimes, Kris forgets and lets slip some information about what Tommy’s been up to. Cale acts like he doesn’t care, but as soon as he’s alone, he prays that Tommy’s happy.

He prays that he’s going to be the man that Tommy deserves—someone who’s strong enough to stay away and let Tommy find the one who can give him what he needs, someone who can stay when Tommy asks him to.

He also prays that he’s turning out to be the man that Kate deserves. He wraps his arms around her, the smell of the shampoo she’s been using since college and the gentle press of her fingers against his thigh putting him at ease. 

Sometimes, when it’s late at night and the silence makes it easier for Cale to breathe, he thinks about that last night they spent together—how Tommy had touched him until he just had to kiss him, how Tommy’s breath hitched when he let Cale fuck into him slowly. They never talked, not really, but then, what do words mean in the end, anyway? They’re nothing compared to covert, heated glances, the tight, desperate squeeze of an embrace, the burst of pain when lips meet because finally, _finally_.

And in these moments of weakness, when he lets himself remember, Cale imagines what it would be like if he hadn’t gotten on that plane back home. Maybe they’d go to Europe and write songs together and kiss under the brightness of the sun. Maybe they’d build a life together and buy a house where they’d live with Cale’s cat. Maybe they’d be happy.

But the choices he has made won’t ever make those come true, and Cale knows that. 

When Kris takes him out for a beer and tells him that Tommy’s seeing a girl from Allison’s band—“Adam says it’s serious”—he just shrugs. It’s not like it’s any of his business, but he still feels a heaviness settle in his heart.

He writes songs, prays, and tries to forget. Kris doesn’t say anything about it anymore, and Cale doesn’t ask. 

So when he sees Tommy standing beside his car in the church parking lot, looking surprisingly at home in his torn jeans and one of Cale’s old plaid shirts, Cale is lost for words. He feels his mouth go dry, and it hits him suddenly how much he has missed him, scared at the intensity of the need to hold him.

They stand there looking at each other for what seems like minutes, until Cale says, “You’re wearing sneakers.”

Tommy laughs and flips the hair out of his eyes. Cale’s breath catches when he sees how the cocky grin fails to mask the uncertainty on Tommy’s face. In all the time that Cale has known him, Tommy has never been unsure, and it makes something in Cale want to reach out to him.

Without a word, they get in the car. Cale drives until they’re in a secluded spot by the river, not far from where he goes to write songs and pray. 

“Sorry,” Tommy says. Cale shakes his head and reaches out to touch Tommy’s hand.

Tommy takes a deep breath as he tightens his grip on Cale’s fingers. “I know I’m not supposed… I don’t really know why I’m here.”

But Cale knows. And somewhere in the back on his mind, he feels relieved that Tommy feels it, too—that Tommy needs it as badly as he does.

Maybe it’s that feeling that pushes him out of his seat, to lean into Tommy and kiss him. One last time, he tells himself. One last kiss. And when Tommy reaches to tug his pants open, Cale lets him. 

Because he knows it’s going to be just as good as the first time; it’d be as if everything has stayed the same. When Tommy starts licking his cock, Cale remembers all the dark rooms and drunken kisses, the rush and the pain. And when he comes with his cock deep inside Tommy’s mouth, he can do nothing but breathe out, “ _I’ll stay._ ”


End file.
